With a Healing Touch
by WhispersOfStarlight
Summary: A young healer comes across a wounded Beorn and tries to help him. He finally relents and lets her. They both learn something new that day. Over the course of a year they will learn that that 'something' can heal more than just the physical wounds of battle.
1. A Healing Touch

Beorn stumbled through the field of bodies, a large gash across his chest and his side.

The Battle was over.

They had won.

He could not say how long the battle had went on for but his whole body ached.

He had held his bear form for far too long but it had been worth it in the end to see Azog the Defiler's lifeless and headless body laying at his feet.

Now he could go home and finally live in peace.

"Wait!"

Beorn halted and turned his eyes in the direction of the voice.

It was a small thing compared to him, but again everything was smaller next to him.

He snorted and began walking again.

"Hey! Wait! You shouldn't be moving!"

He continued to ignore the clearly feminine voice, choosing to move faster through the throng of lifeless bodies around him.

His body thrummed with satisfaction when he stepped on an Orc, crushing it's head beneath his feet.

He stilled when he felt something tap his shoulder.

He looked down behind him and saw a small stone bounce off the ground.

She threw a rock at him...either she was very stupid or not afraid. Both were the same in his eyes at the moment.

He turned and growled low in his throat at her.

She stopped a few feet from him and bent over breathing heavily.

"Why did you throw that stone at me? Are you stupid girl?"

She managed to calm her breathing and now stood there with her arms crossed, glaring at him.

Beorn would've laughed at the sight if he didn't feel so tired.

"The entire front of you is soaked with blood. The gashes need tending to."

He looked down at himself and swallowed hard at the sight.

"I will tend to them when I am home and away from here."

She ran in front of him, throwing her arms out when he started to walk again.

"You need to stop. Those wounds need stitches or you will continue to bleed out."

"These are nothing. They will heal."

"Yes, if you live long enough! Now can you stop with this invincible act and just let me help you?"

There was a tone to her voice that made Beorn pause.

He had heard that tone before, when that beardless dwarf tried saving that she-elf.

It was desperation.

/ ~ / ~ / ~ /

She cleans the wounds as best as she can given their surroundings before turning to ready her needle and thread.

"Take this rag and hold it to the wound on your chest. The gash in your side is worse off, so I will stitch that one first. You will need to keep your arm out of the way."

She sighs looking at the needle and then back at him.

"This is going to take a while so I apologize for not having a larger needle."

Beorn nods his assent and hisses when the needle pierces his flesh.

He watches her silently for a moment before speaking.

"You threw a rock at me, why?

"You didn't stop when I asked you to so I thought you couldn't hear me. Even from that distance I could tell you were badly hurt. So I had to get your

attention somehow. "

He chuckled.

"You are as stubborn and hard-headed as a dwarf, young one."

He is taken aback when she smiles brightly at him.

"The same could be said of you, Great Bear."

The title shocks him and he shakes his head.

"I am no 'Great Bear', I am only Beorn the Skin-changer, child. There is nothing great about it."

She pauses momentarily before placing another stitch in his wound, being careful not to tug the skin too far.

Thankfully the wound when cleaned was revealed to be smaller than it had looked.

"I do not believe that."

He snorts in reply before grunting. That stitch had stung a bit.

"And what do you believe little girl?"

"I saw the body of Azog myself. From what I heard you bit his head clean off and stopped his attack on King Thorin."

"Yes. I ended that miserable Orc's life but I was too late to save the dwarf. The damage had already been done."

She nodded her head, swallowing thickly to try and push the lump of sadness from her throat.

She had just finished stitching his side, leaning down to bite the thread after she tied it.

"There! That one is closed. Now for the one on your chest."

"It is fine. The bleeding has slowed. No need for stitches."

She had tried to divert the conversation to something else by talking of his wounds but it was not enough. It couldn't stop a single tear from sliding down her cheek and falling onto Beorn's arm.

Beorn smelled the salt and using a single finger, he gently raised her face up.

"Tears, little one?"

"You tried and that is all anyone can ever do in life. Try. You should not blame yourself for the King's demise, Great Bear. It wasn't your fault."

She opened her eyes and it was then in that moment that he truly saw her.

Her braid was coming undone leaving tendrils of dark hair to frame her dirt smudged face. Her clothes were tattered and dirty with mud and blood both black and red. Her skin was also stained with blood but if she were to wash, he would almost guarantee it would be pale like the moon. But it was her eyes that caught his attention more fiercely. The wide bright green orbs shone with unshed tears and pure emotion poured forth.

His heart stuttered in his chest as he wiped the tear from her cheek.

"You should not shed tears, least of all for an old bear like me."

She took a step back, shaking her head.

"It has been a long and trying day. You are the first one I have found out here that is still upright."

"So you have found other wounded?"

She shook her head again.

"The ones I found were all dead or dying, Beorn. You are the first one I found with only minor wounds."

He chuckled, "You call stitches, 'minor' wounds?"

She lay a hand on his chest.

"Compared to what I have seen, very minor! You were lucky to have survived barely scathed. There were a few missing limbs and some were tor-torn in two! I have never seen so much death in all my life!"

Her voice broke in the end and she clamped a hand over her mouth, turning away from him suddenly.

Her shoulders shook and a quiet sob escaped her.

The stress of the day had finally reached her and she could not stop the tears.

Beorn reached a hand to her but hesitated to touch her.

"Weep little one, it will help ease the pain."

A painful sound escaped her and she flung herself into his chest. He grunted in pain, but did not push her away. He instead wrapped a single arm around her and pulled her closer.

His eyes stung at the broken weeping of the young woman in his arms.

He could do nothing but let her cry it out.

A single tear slipped down his cheek to be lost in his beard.

Such a kind and gentle soul and she was stuck tending to wounds in a field of bloodied and lifeless bodies.

The world seemed cruel and heartless in a moment such as this.


	2. A Strange Sight

It was an odd sight that Bard the Bowman came upon when he stepped out of the Healers' tent.

There before him was the large man that Gandalf had spoken about. The skin-changer named Beorn.

That in itself wasn't the strange sight.

No.

It was the fact that he was carrying someone in his arms.

It wasn't until he took a closer look at the figure in his arms that he realized just who he was carrying.

"Lyla!"

He ran over and reached for the young woman. He stopped when a growl came from the skin-changer's throat.

He raised his hands to show no harm was meant.

"I know her. She is as a sister to me. What happened?"

Beorn looked at the woman in his arms.

He shook his head.

"Just fainted. She has seen too much death today. She needs to rest."

Bard grimaced and nodded. He turned and pointed to the tent behind him.

"Those are the healer tents. If you give her to me, I will make sure she is taken care of."

Beorn shook his head.

"I will take her there."

He strides around him and speaks over his shoulder.

"The little cub will need food and drink when she wakes. See to that."

With that he bends nearly in half and enters the tent.

'Little cub?'

Bard stared at the tent a few moments longer, before shaking his head and leaving to fetch the young woman some food and drink.

A strange sight indeed.

/ ~ / ~ / ~ /

Consciousness slowly came to Lyla and she opened her eyes with a groan.

She was not on the battlefield anymore.

She was in the Healers' tent.

'How did I end up here?'

She had not realized that she had spoken out loud until a voice replied to her.

"Easy there. You were asleep for some time. I didn't know if you were wounded or not as the giant would not let us near you to check. Thankfully you had just fainted."

'Giant?'

She sat up sharply.

"Giant? You mean Beorn?"

"If that is his name, then yes. He brought you, demanding you have a soft bed to sleep in. Thankfully we had this empty cot."

"Where is he now?"

The healer pointed to a tray on the table next to her.

"He left after King Bard brought that. His majesty was asking him about what type of wood was better suited for building."

'King Bard?'

She must have had a confused look on her face because the healer spoke again.

"Did you not hear? Bard has been named King of Esgaroth and soon he will be king of Dale as well, once it is rebuilt."

Lyla smiled.

"I think he will be a great king."

"Glad to know you still have faith in me, Lyla."

Her head whipped to look at the man that walked in the tent.

"Bard! Oh, uh I mean Your Majesty."

He waved a hand at her.

"Oh not you too. Bard will do just fine, little bit."

She groaned.

"I am nearly 26 Bard. When are you ever going to stop calling me that?"

He threw his head back and laughed.

"Well, it could be worse. I could always call you cub. That is what Beorn called you. Now what did you do to get him to give you that name, Lyla?"

She blushed bright red.

"I might have-well you see-*sighs*I threw a rock at him."

The smile fell from his face.

"You what?!"

"He was bleeding badly and he wouldn't stop walking when I called out to him. So I tossed a small rock at him to get his attention. It worked."

Bard shook his head, chuckling.

"Only you would be so reckless as to throw a rock at a skin-changer so you could tend to his wounds."

"How is he?"

"Beorn? He is fine. He is helping the others to cut wood for rebuilding."

"He's cutting wood?! But he'll rip his stitches and then I will have to do them all over again!"

She threw off her covers and grabbed her coat, throwing it on as she exited the tent, muttering something about stubborn bears.

The healer made to stop her but Bard stopped him with a shake of his head.

"Shouldn't we stop her?"

"Nay. I have a feeling things are about to get a lot more interesting around here."

The healer looked at where the young woman had been and then at Bard. His mouth dropped open in shock.

"You can't mean - Lyla and him? Truly?"

Bard nodded.

"She acts much like Brigid did whenever I got hurt, be it a scratch or a few stitches. She just doesn't know it yet."

"So that was why he wouldn't let us near her. It was the instinct to protect his own."

"Yes."

"What do we do?"

Bard smiled.

"Let them figure it out on their own. It should make for some entertainment in the meantime."

Bard and the Healer locked eyes and shared a laugh.


End file.
